


A Different Strength

by Naja_Nivea



Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Jay!whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:58:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5240687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naja_Nivea/pseuds/Naja_Nivea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Halstead wounded it takes more than just CIs and threat of arrest to save him. A brother story with Will, Jay, and Mouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I spent a few days binge watching Chicago Fire and Chicago PD and was somewhat disappointed in the quantity and quality of the Fanfiction. So I dusted off my writing hat and jumped on board.  
> Warnings:  
> \- Mention of violence and gore  
> \- Realistic depiction of gunshot wounds and the aftermath  
> \- Mention of substance abuse  
> \- Mention of PTSD and PTSD related problems  
> \- Allusions to domestic abuse and violence towards spouses and children  
> \- No slash  
> \- Foul language  
> \- Some Linstead mentioned but not overt, this is not a Erin taking care of a wounded Jay story  
> \- Is grounded in cannon now but as the show goes on may be rendered AU

**Chapter 1:  Wrong Place Wrong Time**

Jay Halstead ambled down the steps of Chicago Med after sticking around longer than the rest of his squad in order to talk to their remaining live victim, which had ultimately been pointless because she ended up back in surgery before even making it out of recovery.  It also gave him an excuse to bum around with his brother over breakfast, which was always fun.  He would have thought that moving in together, after he had waffled over it for weeks, would have meant that they were always together but in truth they rarely saw each other because they both worked shit hours.  On the plus side was that Will could afford a much nicer place than Jay ever could and he was still basking in the glow of having a shower that didn’t occasionally back sewage into it, windows that didn’t leak, and insulation that actually kept the place warm at night.  Plus he hadn’t once had to break up a domestic violence incident for any of his neighbors.  It was bliss. 

He looked up into the mostly clear November morning, taking a deep breath and wishing he had remembered to drop his vest in the back of the car before Lindsey headed back to the district.  He fully recognized that vests saved lives and they were more comfortable than the gear he had to wear in Afghanistan but they were still stiff, and rubbed and chafed after too long.  He looked down the block and noticed that Ambulance 61 was there and he jogged over.  They had been the first responder to arrive at the scene other than the uniforms and he wanted to ask them if they noticed anything or anyone.  It was probably an exercise in futility.  Most paramedics only noticed their patients but they were there and he was waiting for his ride. 

He greeted them and things went downhill from there.  He had just pulled out his pad to take down a note that the blonde that was not Shay had given him, when he saw a silver Lexis with tricked out rims slow down at the corner.  He glanced up, mostly just noticing movement when he saw the muzzle pointing out of the window.  He yelled at the dark haired girl, shoving her behind the ambulance door and blocked the blonde while drawing he own gun.  He never got off a single shot that he knew of, because the next instant his chest, side and leg exploded in pain and he was falling backwards.  He landed on something soft and turned his head to see the car driving away.  247G1 was all he could see of the plate. 

He opened his mouth to radio it in but choked on something warm and salty.  He coughed and saw blood spray across the concrete.  He wanted to draw a breath to ask if the paramedics were ok but he couldn’t.  He felt like there was a 2 ton elephant sitting on his chest and the more he gasped the worse it got.  He saw the paramedics above him, and realized, somewhat more slowly than he probably should have, that he had been shot, which would explain why his chest, side, and leg really hurt.  He was cold, very cold, he didn’t remember it being so cold but then again they had taken off his vest, which always trapped in heat.  They needed to radio about the car, “247G1,” he mumbled, trying to make himself understood through the mask and the dizzying sensation of being picked up.  The world swam around him and someone slapped his face.

“Stay with me Detective,” the Not Shay paramedic told him.  He wanted to nod but he couldn’t seem to move his head. 

“247G1,” he rasped and was rewarded by choking himself on blood.  This whole thing seemed to really suck, maybe he should just take a nap.  A nap sounded really nice, even if he knew it wasn’t really a nap that he wanted right now.  But dying wasn’t so bad either, at least it didn’t seem it at that moment.  He remembered when his mom had died.  He was the only one with her at the time and she had looked so peaceful afterwards.  Like she finally wasn’t in pain or scared anymore.  That sounded kind of nice right about now and living seemed really hard and really tiring and he wasn’t sure he had the energy for it.  His heart was hammering like he had just sprinted a mile in 4 and a half minutes and he was dizzy, like had been holding his breath. 

People above him were talking, trying to get his attention maybe.  He thought he heard someone call ‘Halstead,” but he didn’t catch who or why.  He ignored them for the most part, assuming they weren’t actually talking to him, or maybe just too tired to answer.  Either way, he let it all just float around him, like laying in deep snow and letting it fill your ears and the cold numb your body, but something was nagging him.  That was right, he had been shot, there was a shooter and he needed to tell Voight the plate numbers so Mouse could track them down.  He opened his eyes and tried to focus to ask for phone, but they probably wouldn’t give him one because he had been shot.

He was unceremoniously plopped onto a bed under very bright lights and heard a voice he recognized.  Will, Will would tell Voight for him then he could relax.  He tried to talk but found he couldn’t get enough air to do so.  It would have been terrifying if he had bothered to think about it.  Will was yelling things, most of which he didn’t understand.  His brother liked it when Jay couldn’t follow him, it made him feel special to be so smart.  Will told him to hold still and he did, not even aware he had been moving, then it got easier to breath, at least a little bit.  He tried again, “247G1, Voight, tell Voight.”

“Ok, we’ll tell him,” the pretty nurse with the nice voice and gorgeous skin told him and he smiled at her, maybe, he meant to anyway.  He closed his eyes and just wanted to sleep.  Maybe he would dream about Christmas.  He and Will used to have so much fun on Christmas mornings.  Nobody was angry and sometimes they would go to Grampa’s cabin so they could play in the woods.  It was cold but quiet and you could just sit and listen without hearing anything.  Will never liked it up there, not after they killed the deer.  It never bothered Jay, hunting and dressing the game, but Will hated it, hating seeing the animal suffer, hated killing.  He used to turn green and look away or sometimes cry.  Jay would hold his hand and tell him not to be sad.  He used to miss the shot on purpose to scare them away, his soft hearted brother.

“Jay, Jay look at me, right now.  You need to stay with me, ok,” he heard Will and he sounded upset, why did he think he would leave him?  He wouldn’t do that.  He didn’t need to be upset, Jay wouldn’t make him shoot the deer, he would do it, he was a good shot.  He wouldn’t tell their Dad that Will couldn’t do it.  There was nothing wrong with not wanting to kill.

He peeled his eyes open but couldn’t really see anything clearly.  It was all white and bright, like the sun on snow.  Were the deer close?  Did he need to tell Will to hide his eyes?  “S’ok, little brother, don’t be sad,” he slurred and closed his eyes again.   

TBD


	2. You Are Such a Dick

A/N:  Thanks everyone for all the reviews.  I had no idea this would be so well received.

 

**Chapter 2:  You Are Such a Dick**

Dr. Will Halstead fought a grin as he slowly snaked his hand towards his brother’s toast.  Jay was in the amiddle of recounting why he should waste a few precious vacation days at Grampa O'Shaughnessy’s cabin in backwoods Wisconsin.  Frankly he would rather have a root canal than spend time there, especially with Mouse around.  Over the years he had managed to get used to his brother’s twitchy BFF but he always sort of felt like they had their own language that he didn’t quite understand.  Not that he was jealous, he was far too old to be jealous over his big brother having friends that didn’t want him around.  Ok, maybe he could be a little jealous about it but only a little.  He understood why though, there had been a time when Mouse had been a better brother than him and for that he would put up with it.

He managed to snag the toast and quickly licked it so Jay couldn’t take it back.  Jay glared at him, challenge accepted.  They two of them had been playing this game with each other for almost as long as he could remember.  They would try and do something to the other person’s food to render it inedible.  It drove their parents nuts and both of them should have long grown out of it but, he guessed that most people would be hard pressed to find two brothers that didn’t turn into children around eat other.  There was just something eternally Peter Pannish about hanging out with your brother, especially a set of Irish Twins like them.  Looking back at how energetic and obnoxious they had been as kids, no wonder his father was always so mad.

“Come on, think about it.  Antonio might come too and you could invite that paramedic that is always flirting with you.”

“Which one?”  Will asked, trying to make Jay think that multiple hot paramedics flirted with him, when in fact it was really only one.

“You know the one that took over for Shay,” he explained and Will gave him a blank stare having no idea who or what a Shay was.  “The cute blonde with the breeder hips,” he finally supplied.

“Sylvie you mean?”  His brother’s inability or lack of desire to remember names of women that he was not interested in was almost comical. 

“Yes, her.”

“And are you going to bring Erin with you so she isn’t the only girl?” While he had no issues with asking out said cute paramedic, taking her to bumfuck, WI as the only girl seemed a little date rapey to him. 

“Oh hell no.  She would drive me nuts complaining about everything from the drive to the bugs, to the lack of a jetted bath.  She isn’t the roughing it sort.”

“She always struck me as a woman of uncommon sense, expect for the fact she is dating you,” Will smiled back at his brother then looked over and noticed Dr. Rhodes staring at him.  He had to consciously stop himself from rolling his eyes.  That guy acted like his shit didn’t stink because he was the fellow but seriously he went to a cut rate South American med school and had barely practiced in the US.  It really ticked him off he had to defer to him and Rhodes rubbed his nose in it every chance he got, fucker. 

“So that’s the boss you don’t like?”  Jay asked, clearly able to read his sour mood.

“Sadly yes.  Could you have your boss give him a ticket or something?”  He didn’t really mean it but it was fun to think about.

“My boss?  If I asked Voight to do something like that, one he might faint, and two, that dude would probably end up with a dead hooker in his trunk and a computer full of kiddy porn.  He would go away for life and be continually sodomized in prison.”

“Thanks for that, by the way.  Every time I talk to you, I am filled with such confidence in our legal system,” he smiled as Jay stood up to leave.  He had just stuck around to have breakfast because Will happened to be on break.  It was nice to get to see him.  They worked such different hours they rarely saw each other for more than a few minutes when one was walking in and the other was walking out or asleep. 

“Glad I could help,” Jay smiled and grabbed a last slice of bacon and expertly dipped it in Will’s coffee just as he was about to take a sip.  He then stuffed it in his mouth and smiled, walking out.

“You’re a dick,” he called after him, hearing Jay chuckle in response.  

Opting to not finish his coffee, he cleaned up the table and went back to work, a few minutes early.  He was met with a volleyball player that probably had a broken collar bone.  Boring!  Some days were just more interesting than others in the Emergency Department.  Today apparently was not an interesting one.  He had just finished the form to have the volleyball player x-rayed when the door pushed open admitting two paramedics treating what was clearly a critically injured patient.  Yippee, something to make his last two hours go by faster. 

He must have missed the radio call but he ducked into trauma 2 as they wheeled the patient in, they all grabbed him and hoisted him onto the bed.  “Multiple gunshot wounds, less than 5 minutes ago.  BP,” was as far as they got before the floor fell out from under Will’s feet.  The patient with multiple gunshot wounds and the blood pressure in the tubes was Jay.  He wanted to yell at the world to stop so he could just take a minute to process what was going on but he couldn’t process because the world was still spinning and his brother was on his table and his stats were going down.  He tried to put himself on autopilot and treat Jay like any patient that had just come in with a chest and leg full of lead.  The whole process sounded easier in his head.

Unsurprisingly, April was the first to realize who the patient was after Will.  He didn’t hold it against her, after all, while she knew him, she hadn’t the first 15 years of her life following everywhere he went.  “Dr. Halstead,”

“I know, just concentrate on what we are doing and have someone page Dr. Rhodes,” he spoke calmly as he went to listen to the left side of his brother’s chest.  There was no chest sounds, his left lung was completely collapsed.  Fuck!  He heard someone yelling for Maggie to page Dr. Rhodes.  Jay couldn’t wait though, he had to get that lung reinflated or it was game over.  He vaguely heard an argument about the Fellow being on break and Maggie shutting up the new nurse and telling her to do as she was told.  He couldn’t be bothered though, he had a patient to save and if he thought about it as Jay, he wouldn’t be able to do what he was about to do. 

When people knew both of them they often had one of two reactions, one was that they were so much alike.  And they could be.  Both were sarcastic and sort of goofy and they both had pretty short tempers though Jay’s was way shorter than Will’s.  They were both fiercely loyal and independent and they both would die for someone they loved.  People that didn’t see that often had the opposite idea, that they seemed nothing like each other.  Will was a freakin’ Ivy League educated doctor and his brother was a blue collar cop.  Jay was beer and hamburgers dude while Will liked the finer things in life.  Jay could be and sometimes was flat out violent, while Will was a pacifist by nature.  That inability to hurt a fly, much less his big brother stayed his hand, just for a moment, just long enough to whisper to Jay, “hold still, this is going to hurt,” before he sliced into his side, inserting a tube to drain the air out.  Sadly the air was mixed with blood and Will’s heart sank into his shoes.  His brother was dying in front of him and he didn’t know what else to do.  He could see his brother starting to fade and he yelled, “Jay, Jay look at me, right now.  You need to stay with me, ok.” 

Jay responded, slowly opening his eyes.  The normal baby blue was almost lost to his pupils.  They were dilated, almost blown from shock and blood loss.  He knew what that meant, “S’ok, little brother, don’t be sad.  I won’t make you shoot the deer,” he mumbled.   What the fuck did shooting deer have to do with anything?  He wondered if Jay had even meant to say that or if his brain was starting to randomly fire from lack of oxygen.  It happened, people had elaborate visions when their brains where oxygen deprived.  He wasn’t sure how he didn’t throw up his breakfast right there.

Just as the hysteria was about to take over, Dr. Rhodes ran in, asking for vitals and quickly taking charge.  Normally, Will would have pushed back, daring the arrogant prick to take his patient but now he was beyond thankful.  Now it was no longer his decision what to do next and if anything went wrong, Will could blame him, because blaming him would be easier than blaming himself.  They started to wheel him away and April gave him a questioning look.  She wanted to know if she should go with Jay or stay to make sure he didn’t have the massive mental breakdown he was probably about to have.  He waved her to follow his brother.  She was a great nurse and he wanted her with Jay to help care for him.  He could panic, pass out, throw up, and possibly piss himself without her help.  ….

He ran his hand through is hair and felt the moisture left behind.  Blood, his big brother’s blood.  He grabbed his gloves and ripped them off, tearing the left one in the process.  He should have followed, he should have gone to help, he should have not blown off Jay’s texts last week.  He should have agreed to go spend the weekend at the cabin.  He should have not left dishes in the sink because it annoyed his utterly anal brother.  He should have, should have, he should have told him.

“Dr. Halstead,” one of the nurses got his attention, is there anyone we should call?”  She asked and he wondered if she meant Jay’s family, someone to keep him company, or inform the police.  He probably should but figuring out which one to do first was more than he could process at the moment. 

“He wanted us to call someone named Voight, and tell him whatever he was mumbling about.  It seemed important,” another nurse threw in as she bundled up his bloody, destroyed clothes.  He wanted to tell her to stop treating Jay’s clothes like that.  His brother was sort of a neat freak about folding his clothes; he even folded his underwear for god’s sake.  She was right though, it probably was important but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what Jay had been saying.  He had been too busy trying to save his life, slicing him open and watching him bleed.

“Maybe this Voight person is in his phone contacts,” the first nurse said and swiped the phone only to be foiled by a need for a pass code.  “Shoot, well let’s identify him and have someone call the family.”  They were both new, hadn’t been there more than two weeks, they didn’t know.  She fished out his brother’s badge, carelessly tossing it to the side trying to find his wallet.  There was blood on the tin star and he picked it up, trying to wipe away the mess.  Jay wouldn’t want it to get messed up.  He held it tight in his fist, the leather warm and stiff but the star itself was cold and unyielding.  “Don’t bother, I’ll call,” he said without realizing it.  His father should hear it from him, right?

“You know him?”

“Yes, he’s my brother,” he walked out, still clutching Jay’s star in his hand.  He made it just outside of the curtain before the paramedics accosted him.

“Dr. Halstead, how is he?”  Sylvie questioned and he stared at her like she was speaking a different language for a moment before the question registered. 

“He, he’s, um, going up to surgery.  Four shots and two broken ribs, his vest stopped more than a few but they were armor piercing,” he explained.  He wondered who was talking, he couldn’t be the one.  He was no where near calm enough to be having this conversation.  “Did either of you catch what he was saying when he came in, he kept repeating it and wanted Voight to know for some reason?”

“247G1 but I don’t know what it means,” Chili supplied as one of the nurses that had been helping him handed him Jay’s cell phone, wallet, and keys.  He hoped they didn’t look through Jay’s wallet.  His brother would be embarrassed.  He still had a picture of their basset hound, Charlie, in there but he had been Jay’s best friend growing up.  He had died a few years ago at the ripe, old age of 16.  He didn’t think he had ever seen Jay cry so much even when their Mom had died.  He still remembered, they had been hanging out and watching a movie.  Charlie was so old that Jay had to lift him onto the couch and he dog and laid down with his head and front paws across Jay’s lap, the same way he had been doing since he was a puppy.  He had nosed Jay’s hand to be pet and his brother had stroked the dog until he fell asleep.  At the end of the movie, Jay had tried to get up to take a piss and they both realized Charlie had died in his sleep.  His brother had sat there cradling their dog and sobbing like a child for nearly two hours and Will hadn’t been much better, though Charlie had always been more Jay’s dog than his.  It had been hard though, losing Charlie had been like losing a piece of his childhood.  What would it be like losing his big brother?  He nearly threw up at the thought. 

“It sounds like a license plate number,” Dr. Charles supplied.  When had he even shown up?  He felt the older man place a hand on his shoulder and steer him away from the center of the ER.  People were probably staring, though he couldn’t bother to notice.  “Come on, Will, I called another doctor to cover for you.”

Before he knew it, he was tucked away in his tiny office that the ER doctors shared when on shift.  He put Jay’s things down, but not the star, that he continued to hold.  “Has anyone called the Police?” he finally croaked.  At least now he sounded as bad as he felt. 

“Yes, the paramedics did.  I suspect they will want to talk with you.  I’ll hold them off as long as you need.”

“I need to call Voight, my brother’s boss.  He’ll want know and Jay wanted me to tell him that number,” he bent over and clutched the badge with both hands as if in prayer and pressed it to his forehead.  “Fuck, I need to call our dad.” 

“I can,” he started but Will looked up. 

“No, I’ll do it.  Just hold the blue off for me till I’m done please.  I’m not sure if you have met my brother’s boss, Sergeant Voight, but he can be rather intimidating and hard to say ‘no’ to.”

“Of course,” he smiled and walked out, shutting the door and Will noticed his hands start to shake the minute he unclasped them.  He was a surgeon, his hands were not supposed to shake, ever.  He pressed the tin star to his forehead and took a halted breath.  He couldn’t lose it, not yet, not till he knew for sure if his brother was going to make it or not.  If he was then there was nothing to worry about, if he wasn’t then he could cry all he wanted. 

He picked up his phone and dialed his dad’s number.  He had memorized it when he was 4 years old and it still hadn’t changed, now he just had to dial the area code too.  It took 3 rings for his father to answer and he felt like there was a bowling ball lodged in his throat.  “Dad,” he managed to eke out in response to the man’s greetings. 

“Will, what’s wrong?”  There was a pause and a sigh, “it’s Jay isn’t it?” he nodded even though he knew his father couldn’t see him.  “Is he alive?”  He sounded weak, he had never heard his old man sound weak before.  He had always been strong, larger than life, even after Mom died. 

“Yes, so far but it’s bad, really bad.”

“What happened?” 

“He was shot 4 times right in front of the hospital.  One in the leg and three went through his vest,” he explained then sniffled.  “Dad, can you come down here,” he nearly whimpered.  He knew he should be embarrassed but if you couldn’t snivel to your family then who could you snivel to?  He knew Jay would say no one, even though technically he did have a tendency to talk to Mouse about deep shit that he wouldn’t talk to anyone else about.  “He was, he was on my table.”

“Pull yourself together, I’m on my way.”  The line went dead with his father’s usual unsentimental way of saying goodbye.  One down, one to go.

He picked up Jay’s phone and swiped it, entering in the pass code to unlock it.  It was 0527, their mother’s birthday.  He scrolled through the contacts until he found Voight.  In some ways he dreaded this conversation worse than the one with his dad.  He thumbed his finger along the front of the badge in his hand and pressed call.  It only took 2 rings for the man’s raspy voice to comment, “you ever plan on getting your ass back down to the station to help with this case?”

“Sgt Voight,” he interrupted, “it’s Dr. Halstead.”

“Is our surviving vic awake?” he asked and Will wasn’t actually sure if they were or not.  He hadn’t bothered to check.  He probably should. 

“I don’t know, that isn’t why I called.  Jay,” he felt tears burn his eyes and tried to blink them away.  It wasn’t working though, they had started running hot and fast down his cheeks, blurring his vision and clogging his throat.  Voight would think he was a wimp, weak, and useless but fuck him.  Jay was just another cop to him, but he was Will’s oldest friend, his family, his big brother.  “Jay was shot.” He managed to grind out. 

“I’ll be there in 5,” the phone cut off and he slumped backwards in his chair, tin star pressed over his heart.  His shift was almost over but he couldn’t leave not now, not before he knew.  He couldn’t finish the sentence, the thought, any of it.  He guessed this was denial. 

++++

Voight had seriously been about to rip Halstead a new one for being so late getting back.  He had a few choice words ready for him when he answered the phone only to hear Will Halstead instead.  There were few phrases that could shake Hank Voight anymore.  He had heard most everything and lived with the underbelly of Chicago for so long that he just expected the worst to happen.  But one thing that could shake him was finding out a fellow officer had been shot, especially one of his own.  “Jay was shot,” that phrase shook him down to his core. 

“Hey, Sarge, it’s all over the radio, there was an officer gunned down by Chicago Med,” Ruzek tapped on his wall and informed him.  Little did they know.

“I’ll be there in 5.” He barked and ended the call.  He walked out, fear and fury warring in him to be let out.  Halstead was a good kid, a good cop with a lot of promise, even if he was overly moral and occasionally a little bit too efficient with fire arms.  He was clever and funny but did have that Irish temper to go with his red hair, even if his surname as English.  But most of all he was someone special to Erin and she couldn’t take this not now, not after Nadia.  He probably should have asked how bad it was.  He stepped out, “Everyone gather round,” he shoved his hands into his pockets, an old trick to hid the fists he was making.

“You got something?” Olinsky asked.

“Yeah, and there is no easy way to say it.  I just got off the phone with Will Halstead.  The officer that was shot was Detective Halstead.”  He couldn’t call him by his first name, rarely did and wouldn’t start now.  That was too personal and he wasn’t about to get that personal with a goody two shoes cop that was banging his foster daughter.  He was glad to see that they all looked focused, calm, even Erin as they swung on coats and checked guns to head to the hospital.  One of them would be with him the whole time.  He wouldn’t be trusted to uniforms. 

The trip there was quick and he stormed into the ER, flanked by Ruzek and Erin and followed by Dawson.  Antonio broke away to speak to the uniforms that were questioning two paramedics.  He had left Attwater and Olinsky at the scene, but just driving by it hadn’t been pretty there was blood, shells, holes in the ambulance, and Jay’s vest and gun laying there like so much trash.  He made a beeline for the nurse behind the desk demanding to see Dr. Halstead but luckily Will was already waiting for them.  Erin took one look at his red rimmed eyes and blood covered scrubs and hugged him.  He allowed them to cling to each other for a moment, he supposed they deserved that but he needed answers. 

“What the hell happened?” he demanded after 2.5 seconds.  That was long enough for comfort as far as he was concerned.  There was a cop shooter loose in his city and they would be in custody or dead by midnight if he had anything to do with it. 

“I’m not sure entirely,” he answered, slipping his hand into his pocket.  He was holding Jay’s badge in his hand.  He would need that back before he left.  “I was ordering an x-ray for a volley ball player with a broken clavicle then there was a trauma rushing through the door, even before the radio call came in.  He had multiple gunshot wounds and was barely conscious.  We worked to get him stable and paged another surgeon.  Dr. Rhodes and April went with him to keep him stable for surgery.  That was about 20 or 30 minutes ago.  He wanted me to tell you, ‘247G1.’  I’m not sure what it means it might be a license plate number or it might be his brain compensating for lack of oxygen but he was very insistent I tell you.”

“Did he say anything about the shooter or the car?”  Voight asked.

Will shook his head no, “nothing else of import to you.  He was bad off.” 

“Did you ask him who it was, if he recognized them?” Ruzek questioned.

“No.”

“Well why not, if it were my brother, I would want to know who tried to kill him,” he snapped and Voight turned to tell him to take a walk.

“Because I was too busy trying to save his life.”  Dr. Halstead snapped.  Maybe the guy did have a pair after all.  He was never quite sure.  He had stuck out saving that kid even at risk to his life but then again, he had always struck Hank as someone that ran from conflict rather than facing it.

“Are you sure he did say or do anything else?”  Hank tried, hoping to diffuse the tension.  Ruzek had promise but the dude needed to learn some sensitivity, which was a lot coming from him.

“Like I said just those numbers are important.”

“He obviously said something else so what is it?  Just because you don’t think it is important doesn’t mean we won’t.”  Ruzek tried again.

“You know, I noticed that none of you have even asked how he is,” Will shot back, his voice sounding on the verge of tears.  Finding out a family member had been shot was bad enough but having to be the doc to put them back together was a whole other level of fucked up than he could fathom.  He was surprised the dude wasn’t curled into the fetal position.  “But just in case it matters so far he is still alive but that doesn’t mean much with the level of trauma he had.  I didn’t question him because he had four penetrative bullet wounds with only 1 exit wound.  Two were to the upper, left chest, which if you are keeping score is where your heart is.  The other one to the side, lodged by his liver.  Hopefully it was high enough to not nick a bowel because if it did, it’s probably game over.  

“When he got on the table, his Systolic blood pressure was 71.  He was tachycardiac with a heart rate over 140 and his respirations were about 35 per minute.  Now I realize you are not a doctor but that is what we call Stage IV hypovolemic shock, meaning he had lost more than 40% of his blood volume and his body couldn’t keep his organs perfused anymore.  That is basically the point of no return.  Do you know why he was so bad off, Ruzek?  It was because the two in the chest caused a double Hemopneumothorax,” he advanced on Ruzek and Hank did nothing.  The kid deserved to be put in his place.  He wouldn’t have talked to another vic’s family that way.  Adam shook his head no, and Will continued.  “That is where the pleural space is punctured and the negative pressure environment is compromised.  In his case it filled with both air and blood collapsing one lung and partially collapsing the other.  So he was gasping for air because his blood volume was so low but he couldn’t get more than a quarter of a lungs to fill up.”  That was not a pleasant picture as far as Hank was concerned.

“Do you know what percent of people survive Hemopneumothoraxes with double gun shot wounds? “  Again Ruzek shook his head no.  “You don’t want to know.  So no, I didn’t question him about the shooter because he couldn’t fucking breath enough to talk.  And once I managed to get his lung mostly inflated he said to tell you about the number and yes, he said something else.  The last thing he said, while he was looking up at me and his pupils were starting to blow from shock, which, just an FYI is from decreased brain activity which is a marker of imminent crash in a trauma patient, was, ‘it’s ok, little brother, don’t be sad.  I won’t make you shoot the deer.’  So forgive me being selfish and trying to keep him alive rather than interrogating him.  And I am so sorry, Officer, that I didn’t feel like telling you that the last words I may hear from my brother were telling me not to be upset about something that only existed in his head.”

The good doctor was all in Adam’s face, who had the good graces to look ashamed.  Erin on the other hand looked like she was about to faint, not that he was surprised.  Even he was feeling a little weak kneed after that.  “Was it really that bad?”  A strong voice belonging to a tall, lean man questioned.  He had brown eyes and a hawkish nose, pale skin and hair that had probably been a dark auburn when young but was now a fading to a washed out red. 

“Dad,” Will squeaked, then scurried over.  Hank had always wondered what the fuck was up with the Daddy Halstead.  The two brothers talked about him like he was Satan but neither of them really struck him as people who had grown up in an abusive environment, though Jay’s comment about being like the EJ had been a little disturbing.  So far the man seemed fairly normal, no horns, no tail, nothing outstanding.  In fact, he looked a lot like an older Will. 

“Who are these people?” he asked eyes, that were shrewder than he expected, swept over them.

“They are police, Dad, this is Sergeant Voight, Jay’s boss, and that is Detective Lindsey, his partner.”  He skipped Adam but to be fair he was probably still annoyed.  

Hank extended his hand, “it’s nice to meet you, your son is a good cop and we will catch the person responsible for his.”

“I hold you responsible for this, if he hadn’t been following your orders, would he have been on that corner?” the man asked and he was taken aback.  “It’s been all over the news, that he was shot while investigating for your unit.” 

“Hey, old man, he was doing his job,” Ruzek cut in but he put his hand up to silence him. 

“Dad, come on.  We can wait over here and I’ll tell you what I know,” he started to lead the man away.  “I assume you don’t have any more questions for me,” it was more of a statement than an answer.  Will had always struck him as squirrely compared to his brother but in his element he could be just as much of a hardass. 

“Yeah, keep us posted.”  Just then Dawson walked up, looking over his notes.  “What did you find out?”

“Shooter was in a silver sedan.  They drove by and sprayed the corner.  Halstead shoved Chili behind the door and stood in front of Sylvie.  According to them the shooter seemed to be targeting them but Halstead was in the way.  The bullets were cop killers.  They couldn’t see a plate or anything other than the car was silver with very dark windows.”  He closed his notebook.  “they said Jay was pretty bad off.  What did Will say?”

“He gave us a possible partial plate.  Get them to Mouse to start trying to narrow down.”  _Oh shit,_ they hadn’t told Mouse yet.  Those two were the most bizarre set of friends but they had a weird hetero life-mate bromance that appeared to be unshakeable.  Maybe he would make Ruzek tell him.  “This piece of shit thinks they can shoot a cop in my city.  We will take them down and will send a message to anyone else that thinks they can use us for target practice.  Today we hunt.”  He saw the resolve in their eyes and knew they all agreed.  One of their own had been hurt, they would triple that hurt on whoever did this.  That was the Chicago Way.

++++++

Will felt a shiver run through him as the wind seemed to pull at any body heat he may have had to spare.  He should go back in but he wasn’t ready yet.  Jay still had at least two hours worth of surgery left, assuming he didn’t die on the table, and his constant fidgeting was annoying his father so he decided to take a walk to the roof.  Normally the sight calmed him, it was home, Chicago, with all its beauty and brutality.  He took a deep breath, trying to offset the hysteria he was pretty sure was right under the surface.  As a doctor, especially an ER doctor, he was supposed to unemotional, calm, cool, collected, and able to handle anything.  He had always thought he was but there was a reason you were never allowed to treat family members because you couldn’t stay detached when it was your mother, your father, your child, or your brother in front of you. 

He heard the door behind him open and he whipped around, praying it wasn’t Dr. Effram or Dr. Rhodes coming to tell him they had lost Jay.  “Hope I’m not interrupting,” Dr Charles said as he walked onto the roof as well.   _Thank god, it was just Dr. Charles._ He felt his knees turn to jelly in relief. 

“No, it’s a free roof,” he said and turned back to watch the skyline.  He wasn’t an idiot, far from it, he was actually quite brilliant so he knew that Dr. Charles was there specifically to talk to him.  Part of him was annoyed at the intrusiveness, while the other part wanted to hug the odd man for actually giving him an avenue to talk.  His father was an emotionally repressed, extremely stern and taciturn man that wasn’t the sort he could cry to.  Not that he was planning on crying but still, the thought was nice. 

“I stopped by the OR, so far things are going well.  They’ve gotten the two of the four slugs out and he’s holding his own,” he said and Will blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding since Dr. Charles had mentioned stopping by the OR.  “You were right and the bullets were _cop killer._ ”  Will flinched, hating that term.  Why couldn’t people just call them hollow point bullets?  Why did everyone have to point out that they were used to shoot at police all the time?  Why weren’t they illegal, why did companies still even make them when they had no purpose but to try and murder his brother?  He squeezed Jay’s star tighter in his hand.  He hadn’t been able to make himself put it down yet. 

“That’s good, at least that’s the best we can hope for right now,” he felt tears burn in his eyes and tried to blink them away. 

“Doctors not only make the worst patients but they worst patient’s families too,” he said by way of an opening and Will gave him a small smile.  “We spend so much time cultivating a detached attitude and projecting that we know exactly what to do, when in reality we do what we can and hope for the best.  It’s hard to give that up when it’s someone you care about and you know exactly what is happening to them.” 

“I won’t lie, there is side of me that wishes I was in there with him, rather than Rhodes.  I don’t like the idea of trusting my brother’s life to a Lakeshore loser that couldn’t even get into and English speaking medical school.  But I know I wouldn’t be of much use, I wouldn’t be able to make the decisions that needed to be made, not with a clear head but still,” he trailed off.

“It’s understandable to be conflicted, after all, you are the smartest guy here, right?” Dr. Charles smiled at him and Will actually smiled back.  He suspected that Dr. Charles was one of the few people that might actually be smarter than him. 

They stood in silence for a few minutes before Will accepted the silent invitation and spit out the first thought he could verbalize out of the thousand of half formed ones swimming around his mind.  “The last thing I said to him was that he was a dick,” he admitted.

“Why did you say that?”

“He dipped his bacon in my coffee,” he answered and read the question in the other man’s eyes.  He supposed that was a rather random thing to say.  “It’s a just a stupid game we play.  We try and annoy the other one and ruin their food.  Our parents would get so mad at us about it but we still did it,” he tried to smile to chase away the tears that threatened.  “He was trying to convince me to go on a road trip with him,” he sniffled, “and I blew him off.”

“Why did you decide against the trip?”

“I just,” he wiped his nose, “see our grandfather had this cabin up in the wood of Wisconsin.  Just a crappy, old hunting lodge that Jay and I used to spend summers at and Christmas and sometimes Thanksgiving.  He didn’t even have a TV much less a computer or anything like that.  It had woodsy stuff like chasing frogs and running around.  All the shit little boys are supposed to like but I never did.  Jay would get so excited to go and I would pack science fiction books to read so I could have something to do.”  He bit his lip trying to stop the stream of words but needed to fill the silence and release the pressure of the racing thoughts in his head.  Dr. Charles said nothing though, not even looking directly at him.  He knew the sly man was actually watching him like a hawk, though he appreciated the illusion that this was just a simple conversation.

“It wasn’t so bad when we were really young but after we got a little older I started to really hate it and now I can’t stand going there.”

“But your brother still likes it?” he asked

“Yeah, he loves it.  He spent almost 3 months there after he got back from Afghanistan and we lost our Mom.  I don’t know maybe the quiet helps him decompress, but I fucking hate that place as much as he loves it.”

“Because you get bored or something else?”  He knew Dr. Charles was trying to keep him talking.  He didn’t care anymore.  He would talk and he would be happy about it because he wouldn’t have the chance with his Dad or even with Mouse when he got here.  He supposed he could try talking to Erin but for all that he loved her, he often thought she had borderline personality disorder and he knew that Jay being hurt would end up about her.  Right now, he needed to think about him, at least for a minute. 

“We used to,” he paused wondering how this would look.  He had spend quite a bit of time cultivating a high end appearance and attitude.  That had been one of the reasons he had liked New York.  No one thought of his as the Canaryville brat that was trying to run with the rich kids.  “See my mother’s father, Grampa O'Shaughnessy, was a trucker and he liked the woods so he bought that stupid cabin and when I was about 7, 8 maybe so Jay would have 8 or 9, he decided he wanted to teach us how to hunt deer.  We learned all about how to track them, which is pretty easy in the snow, and hide and stuff.  He didn’t use feeders and blinds like trophy hunters, he would make use stay out there for hours waiting for them to come by and sometimes they didn’t. 

“Anyway Jay nailed his first shot, the very first time he tried.  One through the neck, the poor thing didn’t even know it was dead when it fell.  He made us learn how to skin and dress them.  I mean why did a couple of kids from Chicago need to fucking know that?  I almost puked the first time, seriously the blood made me woozy.  Jay used to hold my hand or let me hide behind him so I didn’t have to watch.”  He smiled and continued, “I could never do it, never kill them.  I would get them in my sights but never be able to actually pull the trigger and kill them.  I would shoot all around them so they would run.  But by the end of the season, my Grampa figured it out and wasn’t going to make me try anymore but my Dad insisted that I needed to.  That it would make a man out of me or some shit.  But I still just shot around them until one day, I was shooting to scare them and this doe ran right in front of where I shot.  I still remember the look on her face when the bullet hit her.  She was so surprised,” he felt tears start to run down his eyes.

“I didn’t kill her right away, because it hit her in the side.  We had to follow her for a while, looking for blood trails on the snow.  We found her fairly quickly, the herd had left her and she had fallen on the ground.  She kept fighting and trying to stand but couldn’t.  She looked so scared.  She knew she was going to die and I couldn’t stop it.  They wanted me to shoot her again but I couldn’t, I couldn’t pull the trigger.  I just stood there and cried.  Jay held my hand and tried to make me feel better but he didn’t get it.  He didn’t understand, he still doesn’t understand,” he was crying now, as he spoke.  He knew it had nothing t do with the story and everything to do with the stress of the situation.  Will let the tears run down his cheeks even as Dr. Charles stood quietly, both looking out over their city.

 

TBD


	3. Waiting is the Hardest Part

Dr. Rhodes was not the best person in the world.  He liked to pretend that he was but he knew that he really wasn’t.  He had faults, and he was facing a huge one on the table in front of him, by the name of Detective Jay Halstead.  He supposed the detective himself wasn’t the issue, it was his familial relation that was the problem, one Dr. Will Halstead.  Will had been one of the first people he had met coming to Chicago Med.  He was tall, good looking in an overtly Irish way (seriously what adult had hair that red), and highly self assured.  He had an Ivy League education and a set of brass balls only grown on the street.  In short, he was everything that Dr Rhodes himself, was not. 

Even as they had gotten off on the wrong foot, he had hoped that things would smooth over, but they really hadn’t.  Oh they could work well enough together but anyone that looked for more than a moment could tell they didn’t like each other.  Will clearly didn’t respect him and he was, and god how he hated to admit it, clearly intimidated by Will’s intelligence.  And like any good men, the two of them sublimated their unease into an escalating passive aggressive war fueled by anger at ridiculous things. 

When it had first started, he hadn’t realized that his dislike of Will was in fact jealousy at his adversary’s skill.  He had thought it was annoyance at the way Will looked down on him for being rich.  It should have been the other way around.  Will was from a shit neighborhood and though he hid it well, it popped out every now and again.  Mostly in that he seemed to relate to the world in terms of intimidation and control.  It was subtle, no where near as overt as his knuckle dragging brother, but still there.  He did it through use of greater knowledge and occasionally physically claiming space to intimidate people into yielding control to him.  Rhodes hated to admit it had worked on him more than once. 

After he figured out what Will was doing, his dislike of the man grew.  He was hell bent on finding a way to take him down a peg or two, just as he was sure Dr. Halstead was planning to do to him.  There was a problem though, the guy was nice, good looking, ridiculously smart, and had way better credentials than him.  He thought it was hopeless until he had started hanging out at the bar called Molly’s.  He was surprised to see Will there regularly.  Dr. Halstead struck him as the type that would stay out of blue collar bars because he wanted to appear high brow.  But alas, the red head frequented the bar along with a weird, Howdy Doody – looking mother fucker that he seemed quite close too.  He thought he had his in, Dr. Halstead was obviously a closeted homosexual and this guy was his lover.  It made sense, they drank out of each other glasses, winked and smiled at each other, and once he even saw Howdy Doody messing with Will’s hair.  Ah, sweet victory was his in the moral game of superiority until he found out from Dr. Manning that Howdy Doody was actually Will’s brother.  He supposed now that he looked at them it made sense, they both had very similar mannerisms, accents, and did look quite a bit alike, plus the whole ginger thing. 

Once he realized they were brother’s he hadn’t wanted much to do with the other man, especially after he had learned he was not only a cop but a former Army Ranger.  I mean really, how was he supposed to know that the hot girl at the bar was Halstead’s partner and that he would go caveman jealous of other men talking to her.  Detective Halstead, unlike his brother, resorted to all out physical intimidation to take control and he wasn’t anywhere near stupid enough to challenge a guy that looked like he could and would snap someone’s neck.  His wariness around the other Halstead could have also been fueled slightly by rumors about his unit being, less than Constitutional with prisoners or a running joke in the ER about his aim.  He had first heard of a “Halstead special” before he had met Jay.  April had mentioned there was one coming in and he remembered that Will made a face like he had just eaten a salty lemon and wondered off the let him handle it.  When the guy had come in, he was DOA and had been functionally decapitated by a high caliber gunshot wound through the neck that had severed his cervical spine.  It was the type of wound you expected to see from sniper fire in Faluja not Chicago.  He later learned that a “Halstead Special” was a joking code name for someone that had had their brains blown out by the police, usually a sniper rifle, and sadly the shooter usually was a Howdy Doody-looking mother fucker by the name of Detective Jay Halstead.  Apparently the guy had good aim and no soul.

The term annoyed the holy living shit out of Will so he made sure to use it whenever possible just to get under his skin.  There had been six “Halstead Specials”  since he had started and April had told him that the numbers used to be much higher when he worked for SWAT.  In all honesty, it had to be hard though, to be a doctor and know that your brother was the anthemia of everything you hold dear.  He wondered how one household could spawn someone like Will that twisted himself inside out trying to save people and one like Jay that seemed to have no issue with ending people.  His own father was a dick, a complete and unrepentant dick, but he wondered what Daddy Halstead must have been like.  But who knows, maybe he was normal, maybe it was the environment outside of the house that caused it.  Maybe Jay had to become tough and violent to protect his smarter, nerdier brother so years later he could kill while Will, who was a nerd, continued to live protected.  Dr. Charles could probably figure it out pretty quickly but wouldn’t tell him his conclusions.

He supposed none of that was important right now, not while they were working to try and remove a bullet from Jay’s liver that was preventing him from bleeding out through his hepatic artery.  One wrong move and he would be dead in less than 30 seconds.  That was stress, a lot of stress, but even more stress when he considered that if they failed, then people might think he did it on purpose to get back at Will, which he would never do.  He didn’t care for Will and even less for what he knew of Jay but he wouldn’t wish this on anyone, especially a fellow doctor that he grudgingly had a great deal of respect for. 

He applied suction as requested and held his breath as Dr. Effram removed the bullet.  So far so good but they hadn’t tackled the chest yet.  He took a split second to close his eyes and pray to Saint Michael, the patron saint of cops.

()()()()()()

Hank Voight could and frequently was a complete jackass.  He often didn’t care one bit if he ran rough shot over people’s feelings as long as he got what he needed.  He also didn’t care if he upset his own men, other than Erin and Al, while doing his job because it might just toughen them up.  Most were too soft, Antionio was too moral, Atwater too green, Ruzek too emotional, and Halstead was too fucking stubborn.  He liked to use drama to create teachable moments for the young officers but he decided to hold off this one time.  He had planned to make Ruzek tell Mouse about Jay.  Ruzek would have deserved it after how he had acted towards Will Halstead earlier.  Will clearly had nothing to do with the shooting so there was no reason to be so adversarial with him.  Plus as a cop that got shot at a lot, why in the name of God would you piss off an ER doctor at the best trauma unit in the state?  That was just stupid.  All that was not even accounting for the fact that Jay was crazy protective of his brother and when he found out, Ruzek was probably looking at some loose teeth or a broken nose, that was all assuming Jay survived, which brought him back to the issue of telling Mouse.

Now Voight hadn’t been fully on board with hiring Mouse at first.  He had a rap sheet, he seemed like he was on Meth with the really fast talking and constant jittering and spacing out, and he didn’t like having someone there that had more loyalty to one of his men than him.  The problem was he couldn’t deny his usefulness.  The guy was a genius and had a decided lack of morals and concern for police procedure that Hank truly admired, even if he did break into the DoD satellite for fun.  His respect had gone up after he had clearly lied about Frasier’s gun being loaded.  He had realized that sometimes you had to break the law to make sure justice was done.  That was the biggest lesson he wanted to teach Halstead, who squarely refused to learn it.  But he digressed.  

Mouse needed to be told about Jay because one, he was on the team, and two they were like BFFs or something.  The problem was, he wasn’t sure how Greg was going to react and he still needed his help.  Most of his team was remaining focused on finding the shooter, even with the constant worry over Halstead’s condition.  A few, namely Ruzek and Erin, were slipping as Ruzek had a sort of big brother crush on Jay and Erin had a something with him.  He preferred not to think about what that something was because it probably involved his daughter getting plowed by an ex Army Ranger.  He still thought it was a bad idea.  Erin was going to end up breaking the kid’s heart because in some ways she was too damn much like her mother and had to hurt people to make herself feel good.  Regardless, he needed to tell Mouse so he called down to him to have him come up to his office.  He noticed that the man tended to only sit in the bull pen if he was actively working on a case and or if Jay was there.  If it was the others he tended to hide in the tech lab. 

As usual, Gerwitz appeared before him looking nervous and with his hands neatly tucked behind him.  He certainly seemed to have more respect for rank than Halstead, who usually stood with much more aggressive body language such as arms crossed, or hands on his belt, and arms out to take up more space.  Jay was clearly the more dominant in their relationship.  Though being dominant didn’t mean lack of affection.  He still remembered what an utterly nervous wreck of a hair trigger Halstead turned into when Mouse was captured.  He was pretty sure, given his druthers he would have stormed the office on his own.

He sighed, not sure how to start.  Mouse didn’t technically have to listen to him.  He could walk out and flip him the bird at any point and Voight couldn’t stop him.  He could try manipulating him, but Mouse was smarter and craftier than he looked and would probably see right through it.  Pure intimidation was useless as well because for all that he was squirrely, the guy had gone all the way through Ranger school and had done two tours in Afghanistan.  There was little that Hank could do to him that was worse than what he had already seen.  He opted for honesty instead.  “Mouse, I need you to run a partial plate for me,” he barked.

“Ok, and you couldn’t just tell me over the phone, why?”  Damn working with intelligent people.  He didn’t remember cops being as smart as they were now, though Mouse wasn’t technically a cop.

“Sit down, kid,” he scratched his chin with the back of his thumb.  He gave Voight a suspicious look but sat or more like perched on the edge of the seat, ready to spring as needed.  This guy was always wound way too tight for his taste.  He wasn’t sure how Halstead managed to hang out with him.  It was exhausting.  “Look, there is no easy way to say this but Jay was shot earlier today, he’s at Chicago Med in surgery right now.  Will thinks he’ll be fine so I need you to.”

“So Will upgraded his condition from 15 minutes ago when he called me?” Mouse asked, looking dead in his eyes.  They were an unnerving blue.   _Shit,_ he hadn’t seen that coming.

“He called you?”  Voight was surprised.

“Of course he did.”  If Voight expected more explanation, he wasn’t getting it.  Mouse just stared back at him. 

“Look I need you to concentrate on helping us find who did this to him, that’s what he would want.”

“With all due respect how the hell would you know what Jay would want?  Have you ever had a single conversation with him outside of work that didn’t involve telling him to stay away from and or take care of Detective Lindsey?”  He asked, his voice level and controlled.  For once he could actually see a Ranger rather than a nervous mouse.  “I emailed you all silver, grey, pewter, mist, gunmetal, battleship, platinum, ect cars matching the partial plate.  There are 343 of them.  Of the 343, 72 of them were positively viewable at tollways or other traffic cams at the time of the shooting.  That is the list I sent you.  There is also a subset of the remaining 271 that are registered to felons with gun charges, sexual assault charges, or known gang affiliations.  Two were reported stolen in the last week, and 19 were registered to companies.  Once you figure out which one to look for, let me know and I’ll find it.  I’ll stick around here until Jay is out of surgery, but then I’m heading to the hospital,” he rose and Hank was gobsmacked by the entire conversation. 

“Good job,” he said to Mouse’s back, not sure what else to say.  He had done his job, under serious distraction and he had done it well.  Of them all, Mouse should probably be the most worried, and the most likely to fall apart, but Hank saw none of it.  He was cool as a cucumber and it was weird.  Just like he had managed to stay cool when he had a gun to his head.  It didn’t make sense, how he seemed like a hunted rodent daily but when stressed turned into a calmly rational eagle.  It should be the other way around.  It made his head hurt to try and figure it out.  Today was turning out to be a shit day.

()()()()()()

Will finished the gritty sludge at the bottom of his cup of coffee.  It was his 10th for the day, though to be fair he counted his day from when he woke up before his 12 hour shift started, which was roughly 18 hours ago and had been an overnight.  In short he hadn’t slept in about 27 hours and he was frazzled mentally and physically.  He bounced his left leg up and down in a near constant rhythm, only interrupted by his father’s stern reprimand to “sit still.”  He made it sound and look so easy, as he reclined, flipping through a magazine about cars.  How the hell was he so calm when his son was in surgery and had been there for 5 and a half hours.  Maybe it was because he didn’t know the risks that Jay was facing.  Maybe it was true that ignorance was bliss and information caused all consuming anxiety attacks about what life would be like without your brother after finally coming home and making up with each other after years of low grade animosity and misunderstanding. He started bouncing his leg again. 

He had never really spent much time in waiting rooms before, horrid places that they are.  They try to make them seem happy but really the false cheer was like the cloying scent of flowers at funeral homes.  All it did was cover up the despair that permeated them.  He again contemplated going to the OR theater to check but reminded himself that his presence wouldn’t be helpful to the doctors or to himself.  He slid his hand into his pocket and squeezed Jay’s badge, just for something else to do other than bounce his leg, stare at the wall, and lament how nauseated he was from drinking so much horrid coffee and worrying so damn much.

Most of Jay’s team were slowly filtering back in, though he wasn’t surprised that Voight hadn’t returned.  He was probably applying thumb screws to someone or didn’t care enough about Jay personally to show up.  It was hard to tell.  Jay always seemed to be alternately impressed and annoyed by his boss and Will had no better read on him.  Erin had returned as had Antonio and the asshole that questioned him earlier.  He normally liked him but he felt like being bitter towards someone.  His brother was critically injured he was entitled to some displaced aggression.  Most of the staff had come by to check on him and he was touched but frankly didn’t want any of them around.  Most were co workers, not friends and the ones that were friends weren’t really helping.  Dr. Charles being the sole exception because he was Dr. Charles.   His father had been his usual self and ignored everyone that had come or gone.  Not a talkative man, Mr. Halstead.  He looked up as a new face entered and realized it was Mouse. 

He had called Mouse just after Voight had left the hospital.  In a way it was the easiest call to make.  He was used to making frantic calls to the other man to help him with Jay.  Oh it used to usually be because he was too drunk to walk or maybe had a night terror and had locked himself in the attic but it didn’t matter.  Mouse had been able to tell something had been wrong by the tone of his voice.  Strangely, he had led Will through the explanation with the partial license plate.  His father would be happy to see him too, he had always liked Mouse for some reason.  Maybe it was because he had managed to bring Jay back when he had gone off the deep end and Will hadn’t even bothered to come home.  Or maybe that was why he didn’t seem to like Will.  Thinking about  it made his head spin, which was bad because he was already queasy and over caffeinated.

He rose and the two embraced each other and Will felt a little better having Mouse there.  At least he was another shield from the Police.  He could see them all milling about, most of them he didn’t even know.  He knew it was a show of respect, a show of solidarity that they came to the hospital when any cop was shot but they were making him nervous.  Or maybe it was the coffee and stress hormones making him nervous.  He couldn’t tell anymore and was beyond caring.

Will was the first one to notice Dr. Rhodes walking down the hall.  After all, he worked with him every day so he should be the first to recognize him.  He stood and clutched Jay’s star.  He had only about 4 more seconds of not knowing then there was no more pretending or fooling himself.  In 4 seconds either he was going to know his brother was alive, and therefore there was still  hope, or he was going to find out his brother was dead in which case, he was pretty sure he was going to end up as a quivering pool of despondency on the floor.  Of course, even as he came up with those options, his mind supplied the entire range of states between life and death.  There was life with diminished capacity, life with severe impairment, and of course life not worth living like persistent vegetative state.  None of which would be something his rather kinetic brother would like.  He felt the pulse throb in his fingers from squeezing Jay’s star so hard. 

He rose and tried to read Dr. Rhodes’s expression or walk.  He seemed tired but that could just be because he was tired.  Three more seconds and he would know.  His father rose, moving in front of him, somehow figure out that this time that he popped out of his seat was important rather than just his inability to deal with the excess stress and stop fidgeting.  But then again, his Dad may be a first rate asshole sometimes but he was his Dad.  He had known him his entire life.  Two seconds, left and Mouse was visible out of the corner of his eye, hands stuffed in his coat pockets and face as blank as Jay’s gets when you question him about something he doesn’t want to talk about, like “how was your day?”  One second, Erin and Antonio stood as well.  One more second and he could feel his heart beating in his throat.  His mind swam through the cause, heart palpitations caused by excess adrenalin, causing a feeling of noticeable heart beat.  It didn’t matter because his second was up and Dr. Rhodes was standing in front of them and he ran his thumb along Jay’s star as if it would make a difference in the long run. 

It was times like this he wished he had religion but he had always lacked the convictions necessary to have faith.  Their mother had been a good Catholic woman, and dragged them to church all the time.  Their Dad only went on Christmas and Easter but she insisted that Will and Jay go with her.  Will went, mostly to get out of the house and away from his Dad but Jay would fight, like he tended to do with everything, and refused to go.  He had always said he had enough of that shit during school and didn’t want to listen to it on the weekends.  Eventually he won and it was just Will and their Mom.  He would go and take Communion, listen to the priests, and recite what he was supposed to but he never believed.  It was only ever going through the motions to make his mother happy.  He used colloquial terms like “oh god” or “god help us” but they held no more meaning to him than terms like “son of bitch.”  They were just a way to express a notion or feeling so that others would understand.  After he went away to University, he never went anymore.  The last time he went to a church was his mother’s funeral.  If Jay died, he wouldn’t want his funeral in a church.

“Will,” Dr. Rhodes started and he tried to pull his frazzled wits together enough to listen.  Dr. Rhodes looked around, no doubt unsure with the addition of all the new people.  Most of them he would have seen before at Molly’s and maybe even talked to, but he probably didn’t know them by name.  He didn’t know that Antonio was Gabby’s brother and that his wife left him and he owned a boxing gym.  He didn’t know that Attwater took care of his sister and was a really good poker player.  He wouldn’t, couldn’t know that Erin wrinkled her nose when someone nuzzled her neck (he only knew because he saw her do it with Jay) or that she was a total slob that took stupidly long showers.  And his mind was wondering again.

“How is he?” his father asked before Will could formulate the thought.  He would have asked _how did it go?_   But whatever, the point was conveyed. 

“You must be Mr. Halstead, it is nice to meet you, I’m Dr. Rhodes.”  He held his hand out and their father took it, looking impatient.  The man was never one for pleasantries or being pleasant in general.  “It went as well as we could have hoped.  The rounds were cop killers so several did penetrate his vest and the ones that didn’t broke a few bones.  They were slowed down, though. and were unable to exist.  The wound in his leg was a clean through and through that only hit the muscle.  He should have no lasting damage,” he paused and Will waited for the rest of the news.  He had never been worried about the leg, the leg was nothing, it was the chest and gut that were the problem.  “One hit him in the side, and lodged in his hepatic artery,” Will felt his knees go to jelly.

“That was what tanked his blood pressure?” he asked, not even waiting for his fellow doctor to continue.  “How much damage did his liver take, how much of it did he lose?”

“We managed to save it all but he did need 6 units of blood on the table.  The stitching was delicate work and we had to do a graft on it but the stitches are holding.  However,”

“There is always chance of a clot or rebleed,” Will finished for him from rote.  For Jay it would be a very real possibility.  Low blood pressure, immobile, if Rhodes had half a brain he would be chilled, all of which slowed circulation, which could lead to clots.  Anti coagulants were out of the question, at least for now, given the level of trauma.  He would be leaking blood internally in a matter of hours.

“Yes, there is a chance of clots but he is young and healthy,” Rhodes added, trying to make the others feel better.  He didn’t bother looking at Will, he knew he couldn’t fool him.  Will understood the risks the same as he did.

“What about his lung?”  Will asked.  He had been most worried about the lung, you sort of need them to live and all.  He hadn’t even known about the liver, if he had known, he would have worried about that too. 

“There was significant damage to his left upper chest.  Both bullets hit his left lung but we managed to repair it.  His right lung and heart are fine, the bigger issue is that his left lung can’t keep pressure so we do have him on a ventilator,”  Dr. Rhodes explained.  Will wasn’t surprised.  Even with a chest tube, he hadn’t been able to completely reinflate Jay’s left lung.  Even with delicate surgery, his lung was probably still leaking air, they would have to leave a chest tube and a drain in, at least overnight, probably longer.

“Did you perform a pleurodesis, while he was under?”  Will asked, again jumping ahead of everyone else.  He used to do that at school all the time.  He would read his entire text book the first week of school and always want to move ahead of the other students because he was bored or impatient.  He used to think it was the other children’s fault for being too dumb to keep up with him. 

“What is that?” Erin asked and he wanted to snap at her to keep up with the conversation, like he would have to Jay.  Of course if Jay had been here for him to razz about being stupid then they wouldn’t be in this situation. 

“No, we didn’t.  We decided to leave the tube in and see if his lungs would seal on their own.  We’ll reassess in 24 hours or so.”  Dr. Rhodes answered him.

“Can we just slow down and you explain to us, non doctors?”  Antonio asked.

“Of course, basically his lung was punctured twice.  Those holes allow air to leak out of his lungs into the pleural space, which then prevents his lung from expanding completely.  Left untreated, his lung would collapse.  Because he cannot keep it expanded on his own, we have a chest tube to allow any air that escapes to be released and we have him on a respirator until he can breathe well enough on his own,”  Dr Rhodes explained patiently. 

“He can’t breathe?”  Erin questioned, looking pale.

“Yes and no, his brain is fully capable of telling his body to breathe but his lung is unable to maintain a proper seal.  Think of it like trying to blow up a balloon that has a slow leak in it.  We are hoping that given a day his lungs will seal again.  If not, we’ll have to look at doing something more drastic.” 

“When can we see him?”  Mr. Halstead asked.

“He’s in recovery now and we’ll move him up to ICU soon.  He will be fully sedated,” he started and Will interrupted him.

“I want to be in recovery when he wakes up.”  Normally families were not told or even invited into recovery but being a Chief Resident at the hospital had some perks. 

“Dr. Halstead, Will, you know,” Dr. Rhodes tried to dissuade him but it wouldn’t work.  He needed to see his brother for himself.

“You are going to let him wake up enough to check his faculties and reactions.  I want to be there, when you do,” he insisted.  “I’m not some schlub off the street, I know what I’ll see and I know how he’ll be but I don’t care.”

“As his family, it’s your right,” he looked over at their Dad, who waved at Mouse.

“You go,” he sat back down, looking old and tired.  Unlike Jay, Will never doubted that he loved them.  He just suspected that he didn’t really like them.  Mouse nodded and followed behind Will.  In a way, he was glad for the other man’s presence.  Mouse was potentially more likely than him to freak out when he saw Jay struggling to breath, hooked to machines, doped out of his mind, and draining fluids out of tubes sticking out of his chest.  After all, Will was a professional, he had seen it all before, of course not with his brother. 

They walked down the hallway towards recovery, Mouse a half step behind him.  He was reminded of the one time he was called to the Principals office in grammar school.  He was the good boy, Jay was always the trouble maker.  He prided himself on being good, on being perfect, on being what everyone wanted him to be.  He was smart, he was tall, he was athletic but not a jock, he was kind but not cloying, he was liked.  Sometimes he envied Jay’s utter lack of caring what other people thought of him. 

By the time he looked up they were at the recovery room door.  He took a deep breath and intended to walk in but Dr. Rhodes stopped him.  “Will are you sure you want to do this?  He isn’t going to remember any of this so you not being here won’t make a difference.  Besides, seeing someone you know like this is a whole other thing than a normal patient.”  Will noticed that Dr. Rhodes was trying to meet his eyes.  The other’s man’s gaze was brown and kind.  He sort of wanted to punch him.  It wasn’t that he was mad at him, in fact he was grateful that he saved his brother, it was just that he wanted to hit something.  The other option was Mouse and for all that he was slightly built and twitchy, he was an ex Ranger and could probably wipe the floor with Will. 

“I’m sure,” Will answered and tred to walk through again, this time Dr. Rhodes put his hand on his chest to stay him.

“Look, I understand but it is going to be different.  I thought I was prepared when I saw Russell but it wasn’t the same.  And my relationship with him is nothing compared to a sibling bond.”  Oh yes, the patient that he had no business working on and had to be led by the nose on how to help.  He could feel himself starting to grow impatient.  For all that he dreaded seeing his brother hooked to tubes and machines, he still wanted to see him with his own eyes. 

“No, you look, you have no medical or legal reason to keep me out of that room.  And it is sort of hypocritical of you to bring up that patient considering you shouldn’t have even been working on him given your level of relationship with him, which you happen to leave out till after the fact,” he lashed out, finally venting his frustration.

“You may be fine, but what about you other brother,” his eyes flicked to Mouse, who until now had remained silent.

“He isn’t my brother, he’s Jay’s friend and trust me, he has probably seen worse,” Will defended having Mouse there.  Right now was not the time to get jealous or annoyed that someone thought Mouse was related to them.  Sometimes the family you chose was more precious than the family you were born into.  At least that was how Jay seemed to feel most of the time.  He would rather spend holidays with Allie’s parents or Mouse’s mother than his own family.

“Ok,” Dr. Rhodes finally moved aside and let him pass.  Mouse scurried behind him.  He wondered briefly if he should have asked him whether he was comfortable coming in here.  Their Dad told him to go and Will assumed he would be fine but they never asked him.  Oh well, too late now. 

He found Jay in one of the bays, looking about how he expected.  He was pale, so pale his eye lashes stood out against his skin.  His freckles looked like Dalmatian spots on his bone white complexion.  His lips were starting to bruise from someone being too hasty to intubate him, catching and pinning his lip with the laryngoscope.  It was a rookie mistake and he wondered who did it.  His body was puffing with breath in an unnatural rhythm from the ventilator and machines gauged his stats all around him.  His leg was bandaged and stitched but a drain still hung from it, tucked neatly under the bed beside the catheter bag collecting urine.  The chest tube seeped blood onto a pad on his left side, while another tube drained fluid from his abdomen.  All in all he looked fucking horrible but alive. 

Will looked up from his study of Dr. Rhodes’s work when he heard the man talking to Mouse.  “You can talk to him and hold his hand if you like.”  His voice was soft and caring.  A perfect bedside manner for a trauma surgeon and Will still wanted to punch him.  Mouse took Jay’s hand and gave it a squeeze, holding it together admirably, given how shitty his brother looked.  Will concentrated on the monitors.  This was just another GS patient, one that had been badly wounded but could and would survive.  He would watch for lowering BP or rising heart rate, ect.  It was so much easier to fall back on training and detachment than think about the fact that his brother was full of holes in front of him. 

After a few minutes, he noticed Jay’s heart rate climb.  He was starting to wake.  He and many other doctors were somewhat torn about the whole process of letting someone wake up after a horrific surgery, with a ridged tube shoved down their throats breathing for them simply to make sure they could wake and wiggle their extremities.  It was useful for gauging damage to spines, cognition, and other complex issues but it was hell on the patients for the 3 to 4 minutes they were awake. 

Dr. Rhodes noticed too and came closer, flipping the blankets off Jay’s feet to run his pen across the soles.  Jay twitched slightly, showing a healthy, if depressed reflex.  Will tucked his hand into his pocket and fingered Jay’s star.  That stupid thing was the reason all this happened.  He wanted to throw it off the roof but alternately couldn’t make himself put it down.  He was tired of contradictions and feeling emotionally conflicted.  For all that he was a very good doctor, he was a lousy nurse and left the heavy emotional stuff to others. 

Jay’s heart rate climbed again and his eyes started to move under the bluish lids.  He was out of sedation enough to dream.  He wondered what he was dreaming about.  Was it happy or was it sad?  Did he know what had happened to him or was he blissfully ignorant of the fact he had been gunned down.  Mouse was talking to him, something stupid about meeting a girl when he went to get pizza and that Erin made a shitty wingman.  Jay wouldn’t understand him but he might be soothed by the sound.  Will knew he should say something but he wasn’t sure what to say.  He wasn’t sure he could even talk past the lump that had taken up residence in his throat over the last few minutes. 

His heart rate rose again and he began to gag slightly around the tube in his throat.  Mouse squeezed his hand and pet his hair, telling him it was all good.  How was it that this little twerp was better at comforting his brother than he was.  He was a doctor for Christ’s sake.  He should know better than anyone what to do, but he couldn’t seem to do anything but watch the monitors. 

Dr. Rhodes ordered the nurse to have sedatives ready for when Jay woke.  It wouldn’t be long now, his body was starting to fight against the invasive machines and tubes.  He felt himself huff in laughter at the thought.  Jay even fought when he wasn’t conscious.  His eye twitched open slightly and he gagged again.

“Hey Blue Jay, just stay cool it’s all good,” Mouse smiled at him as he woke. 

His brother gagged and raised his right hand, the one Mouse wasn’t holding and he should have been, to try and take out the tube.  His movements were clumbsy and weak.  Will grabbed his hand by the wrist, holding it down.  Jay gagged and shuddered against the unyielding plastic.  

“Talk to him,” Dr. Rhodes instructed, “you know what to ask.”

Yes he did, thank you very much.  “Jay, I need you to move your toes for me,” his brother jerked his toes around, but tried to free himself to pull at the tube.  “The tube has to stay in, helping you breathe.  Just a few seconds longer, then we’ll let you go back to sleep.”  He noticed that Jay clutched at Mouse’s hand even as he fought to free the one he held.  “Do you know who I am, one blink for yes, two for no.”  Jay gave one very deliberate blink than tried to free himself again.  He finally noticed that Jay was moving his hand in a circle, just about the time Dr. Rhodes was going to sedate him again.  It couldn’t be done too soon.  His brother was in pain.  He was gagging and trying to vomit but couldn’t because there was a cuff preventing his stomach contents from coming up.  He really sort of wanted to start crying.  “Wait,” he called.  “Jay do you want to write something?”  Another single blink.  “Get me pen and paper, now!”  He shouted at the nurse.

A white board and marker were quickly handed to him and he held it up for his brother to write on.  Jay slowly wrote, his letters messy and jerky from his constant gagging.  Will flipped the board around and read it as Jay slipped back under.  “Late model silver lexis, tricked out wheels, dark windows, single shooter, 247G1.” 

He closed his eyes for a moment and took another look.  It wasn’t a message saying he would be alright.  It was a message saying he loved anyone or a last word to his family.  It was a freakin’ description of a car.  He want to smack him upside the head with it and tell him to act like a human being for once and not Robocop. 

“I’ll call Voight and let him know,” Mouse offered, taking the whiteboard from Will’s numb fingers. 

“We’ll be moving him up to ICU in a few minutes, Will, why don’t you head home and get some rest,” Dr Rhodes offered and Will stared at him like he was speaking Klingon.  “You worked a full shift before this even happened.  You must be exhausted.  I promise I’ll call if anything happens,” again with the kind voice. 

“I’ll stay with him too,” Mouse offered as if there was ever any doubt.  Him and Jay were somewhat codependant in an oddly not homoerotic way. 

“Let me talk to my Dad and see what he wants to do,” he answered, wavering between wanting to go home and burry his head in the sand and stay close by in case anything went wrong.  No one argued with that as they made their way back to the waiting room.  More cops had come and now he recognized Voight and the guy they called “O” standing in the background.  There were also a bunch more uniformed cops there some he recognized and others he didn’t.  He felt like his legs weight 1000 pounds each as he trudged towards the crowd.  They all stood and crowded as they approached.

“How is he?”  Erin asked, if he wasn’t sure, he would think she was holding Voight’s hand. 

“He’s doing well, faculties are intact and his O2 sats are good,” he answered, not sure what to say.  That is what he would want to hear but then again he had been told he needed to work on his bedside manner.  Maybe he needed to work better at cultivating the false kindness in his voice like Dr. Rhodes.  People that didn’t know him wouldn’t know it was a ruse.

“When can we see him?”  She asked again.

“He’s on his way up to the ICU,” Dr. Rhodes jumped in and for once he wasn’t annoyed by it.  “After he is settled, two people at a time can go and sit with him.  He will be fully sedated though.”  Will could see the agreement among the cops that Erin would get to go first, probably with Antonio.  He loved how they seemed to be disregarding his family and very close friends.

“The ICU is family only, isn’t it?” his father asked from his seat, seeming to not be paying attention to anything that was going on. 

“Well, yes, family or anyone that family says is allowed in,” Dr. Rhodes answered, looking confused.  Of course he didn’t know their Dad and didn’t realize the apocalyptic shit fit that was about to happen or for no other reason than Halstead senior didn’t like cops.

“Then only family,” he looked up and smiled slightly at Mouse.  “And Greg of course, he might as well be family.”

“What you can’t do that?” Erin nearly shouted and walked towards their father.  “You have no right to keep us from him, I’m his partner, his,” she stopped short of saying girlfriend.  Will wasn’t sure it was because she didn’t want to say it in front of Voight or she didn’t fully believe it.  As much as he liked her and he knew Jay liked her, he suspected their relationship was doomed to fail.  She was selfish and self centered and Jay had horrid approach avoidance behavior in relationships.  She was manipulative and he was controlling.  He just couldn’t see it working for the long haul.

“I don’t care if you are the Virgin fucking Mary, I said no,” their father rose to his full height.  Will moved between them and somehow, even if they were the same height now, his Dad still seemed tall. 

“Will, you can’t let him,” she tried, tears in her eyes and he felt bad for her.  He felt bad for Antonio, Atwatter, O, and maybe even Ruzek a little but he said nothing.  Will was many things but suicidal was not one of them.  He would not challenge his father over this, not here, not now.  He wasn’t like Jay, he wasn’t a bad ass fighter and he wasn’t brave, not brave enough for this anyway.  She quickly realized that there was no help coming from him.  “Hank?” she tried and of course the watery puppy dog eyes worked on him.

“Look, we can work something out,”  Voight started.  His words were placating but his body language was aggressive and challenging.  He was used to getting his own way, well so was their Dad.  This could get real ugly, real quick and if his Dad starting swinging, he was pretty sure he was going to give up and get a pop tart and a library book and hide in the crawl space under the stairs with a flashlight until it was over like he did when he was seven.  Then he could come out and put superhero bandaids on his mother’s cuts and bruises and she would tell him he would make a wonderful doctor someday.

“Dad, please,” he tried, not liking how weak his voice sounded.  It wasn’t in his nature to question the old man.  That was Jay’s thing. 

“The only thing we can work out is how to get the rest of you out of here and away from my boy,” he said and Will knew that tone of voice.  It sent shivers up his spine and made his mouth run dry. 

“Mr. Halstead,” Sharron Goodwin interrupted, and Will could have kissed the woman.  “We’ll make sure it is family only in the ICU but the waiting room is for everyone.  Now let’s go this way and I’ll take you to your son.”  His father gave one final glare to Voight and company and followed her.  God bless that woman and her ability to make pretty much anybody do what she says.  Mouse trailed behind them, looking apologetically back towards the rest of Jay’s team.  He noticed that Antonio held the whiteboard and was glad someone had it.  He tried to pay attention to that rather than the glares they were all shooting him.  They didn’t understand, of course they didn’t, but asking Will to go against his Dad was like asking a pig fly.  He just couldn’t do it.  Jay hadn’t a problem with it but he was never strong enough, never brave enough, never tough enough.  All he could do was look the other way and clean up the mess afterwards, counting the minutes till he could get out. 

Dr. Rhodes put his hand on his shoulder and steered him away from their accusing eyes.  If it had been anyone else, he might have thanked them but he just felt numb now that the fear of Jay’s surgery and the fear of his father flying off the handle and picking a fight with a cop was gone.  After all, Jay got that temper from somewhere and it wasn’t their mother.  They ended up in the on call room, which was blessedly empty.  He sank onto the couch and squeezed Jay’s star. 

“Will, go home and get some rest and some food, you look like you need it.”  He wanted to snap that this rich prick had no idea what he needed but the man wasn’t wrong.  He held his tongue though and stayed sitting trying to figure out what to do.  “So that was your dad, huh?” he asked and Will whipped his head up to stare at his fellow doctor.  “He seems like a real charmer,” he smiled as if it was a joke.  Jay huffed a laugh that turned into a sob.  He didn’t mean to, he didn’t want to, but he felt tears start to stream down his face and his breathing hitch.  Why, why here, why now, why in front of this pompous asshat?  “It’s ok, Will” his voice sounded kind for real instead of falsely but he still didn’t want to be seen, not like this.  The other man wouldn’t leave though, he just sat beside him with a hand on his shoulder and Jay was helpless to do anything about it.


End file.
